


oops we did it again

by peraltiagoisland



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/F, PLS LIKE THIS, and im hoping i'll make things more intense in future chapters, as in, but it still deserves the rating, dianetti canonverse fwb au, here's the smut the dianetti fandom asked for, i am not changing any of the canon dialogue, it's not that explicit now?? idk, jake and amy are also fwb but they won't be featured much, they all remain the same, u won't see them aside from through gina or rosa's pov!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiagoisland/pseuds/peraltiagoisland
Summary: Gina and Rosa find out about their mutual attraction in a rather strange way—through Gina telling Rosa that Charles has a crush on her. Determined to keep things platonic in order to ensure nothing bad ever happens to their friendship, Gina and Rosa (really, it's more of Rosa) both staunchly refuse to get into a relationship, fling, affair, whatever one might call it. And they are definitely, definitely, not going to become friends with benefits.





	1. we're more than just friends

**Author's Note:**

> HEY DIANETTI FANDOM HERE'S THE SMUT I PROMISED 
> 
> michelle finish ur other fics instead of spontaneously starting new ones challenge 
> 
> i wrote this in two days (coulda been one day but i suck) 
> 
> please treat me well idk how sexy this is but let's hope it gets sexier

Gina has a hunch one Friday morning. So, you could say that it’s a hunch that’s definitely accurate. You could also say that she’s the best detective in the 9-9. Yes, she has no badge, but having a badge is secondary. She’s stolen like five, anyway. Everyone knows that being a cop is a state of mind.  
  
And this amazing cop (her, Gina) has a feeling she knows another cop’s secret. Charles Boyle. Who, according to her standards, shouldn’t be considered a cop, given his current state of mind. That mind, that poor, sad mind, is ravaged with love.  
  
Okay, that might be too extreme. Gina supposes she can call them ‘feelings’.  
  
Who does Charles Boyle have feelings for, you ask?  
  
Rather than saying that outright, Gina thinks it’s better to present her case.  
  
Charles looks over at this cop’s desk several times a day, like he can’t help but look, but also he’s terrified of getting caught. Terrified of being caught by them. He’ll look, look back down, look again, look back down, look a little too long, and then look up at the ceiling, and then look back down once more because the ceiling is gross.  
  
Gina knows this because she spends her fair share of time looking at this cop herself. But it’s not because she has pesky _feelings._ This cop is one of the—no, this cop is _the_ hot one in the precinct—with a striking personality to match. The reason why Gina likes looking so much aside from the chance to check out a hottie, is because she likes seeing this cop do paperwork.  
  
Sike! Okay, sure, hot cop gets this look of concentration on their face when they do paperwork, a face, a look which she finds alluring, a frown she finds enticing. She likes giving this cop winks once in a while when they walk over to her desk with a complete arrest report for her to deal with (apparently that’s part of her job), seeing them roll their eyes, or occasionally, when they brush hands, blush.  
  
It’s a side of hot cop she’s almost certain no one else gets to see, which Gina relishes. But the real reason Gina looks over at hot cop’s desk more than she should? Is because she likes it when they lose their temper.  
  
She doesn’t go out of her way to look at hot cop, out of her way to see them explode. Hot cop’s desk is situated to the right of Gina’s own table, so all Gina has to do to see hot cop is swivel her chair ever so slightly to the right, and boom, there she goes, watching hot cop in her peripheral vision.  
  
Hot cop doesn’t lose their temper every day, which is fine by Gina. It makes her cherish those days when they do get angry much more. It’s not that Gina’s encouraging anger management problems at the work place or anything—hot cop is scary by nature, everyone is terrified of them, and it’s not hard to imagine why: they’re brash, strong, always has weapons on them for some reason, speaks in a harsh tone, has a sexy deep voice, and occasionally, destroys department property with sheer force.  
  
So yes, that’s all plenty enough to make everyone frightened of them to some extent.  
  
Not Gina though. She’s not like the rest of them. Okay, that does not mean she doesn’t think that they wouldn’t be able to put the fear of god in her if they wanted to, Gina is just certain that she wouldn’t mind, under certain circumstances. What? Fear is a powerful aphrodisiac. Gina isn’t immune to its effects, especially when wielded by the right people.  
  
What was Gina’s point again? Oh right, Charles, and his painfully obvious feelings for—you know what, Gina’s getting sick of referring to them as hot cop, even though it’s true—hot cop’s name is Rosa Diaz, yes, the one and only _Rosa Diaz_ , and Charles Boyle is very clearly _into_ her.  
  
What else does Charles do? Ah, he tends to make a fool out of himself in front of Rosa. To Charles’ credit, he makes a fool out of himself on a regular basis, but this foolishness increases tenfold in the presence of Rosa. And he didn’t used to be like this too—these days, the pathetic sad sack can be seen on the verge of asking Rosa to join him in on an indiscernible event, and then halfway through he’ll chicken out, and then more often than not, he’ll bump into a pillar on his way out, amusing Rosa (and also Gina, because she’s watching), before she walks away sipping herbal tea or something.  
  
Sometimes, when he sees Rosa approaching, he panic walks in the other direction altogether.  
  
So yes, Gina Linetti is pretty sure she has a compelling case. What do cops do after they compile a compelling case? They interrogate their perp. Which is exactly what Gina plans on doing.

 

* * *

  
Charles cracks less than five minutes into Gina’s questioning. She barely even has to present her case, Charles buckles under fear and pressure quicker than Gina can even slam a desk, which Gina supposes she doesn’t find at all surprising. She knows she can drive the fear of god into people too, and Charles isn’t exactly a difficult person to intimidate.  
  
“Just–“ he shudders–“just don’t tell anyone? _Please_ don’t tell her, she—she’s going to kill me if she knows, or–“  
  
“Relax,” Gina sighs, already bored of this. “I just wanted you to acknowledge it. Why would I tell anyone?”  
  
_That very night, she tells Rosa everything._  
  
What? Rosa isn’t going to kill Charles for having feelings for her, and yes, Gina doesn’t suppose she’ll at all feel the same way, so nothing is going to change if she knows. At least, she _hopes_ Rosa doesn’t feel the same way. It would be incredibly disappointing if Rosa felt even one iota of romantic affection for Charles Boyle, not to mention extremely disgusting. Of course, Gina doesn’t care who Rosa likes or doesn’t like, she just has a certain level of respect for the woman, and if Rosa were to stoop so low as to fall for the likes of Charles— _no offense to the man, but he doesn’t even hold half a candle to the breathtaking Rosa Diaz_ —Gina would probably lose all respect for her.  
  
Anyway, Gina is about two pretty cocktails in when she spills to Rosa. They’re all at the bar for a farewell party thrown for Captain McGintley, who is transferring to a different department. She doesn’t know what compels her to tell Rosa Charles’ secret—could be her inebriated state _(barely, to be honest, two cocktails do next to nothing to her),_ the silence between the two of them _(not uncommon to be fair, because Rosa loves drinking in silence, and Gina tends to indulge her when they’re alone)_ , a need for Rosa’s attention _(now this is just complete bull, Gina knows getting Rosa’s attention is never difficult for her)_ —whatever the reason, Gina cracks and spills the beans.  
  
“So–“ she starts, inching closer to Rosa as Jake and Amy leave, leaving the two of them alone at the table–“word on the street is that someone has a crush on you.”  
  
Gina’s hand is on Rosa’s shoulder after she says this, and the close proximity of their lips leaves Rosa quickly jumping to conclusions. She gives Gina a look, a very pointed look which leads Gina to know of Rosa’s suspicions even without a word escaping her person. Rosa thinks that Gina is this very ‘someone’, which is ludicrous. Gina doesn’t refer to herself in the third person. She’s not a coward, and she has not picked up on Terry’s speaking habits, despite years of working with him.  
  
“Relax,” she leans back, swirling her drink, eyes never straying from Rosa to prove how unshaken she is by this. “A higher being such as myself doesn’t fall so easy.”  
  
Rosa snorts. “You’ve been engaged _eight times.”_  
  
“But never _married_. Getting engaged is like, third date activity. I do it for the pretty rings people can’t seem to stop offering me. And then I sell them for money when I end things.”  
  
Rosa looks almost impressed by this, but doesn’t show it. “Fair enough. So, not that I care, but since you brought it up—who has a crush on me?”  
  
“He left ten minutes ago and made very awkward attempts to make you lunch tomorrow.”  
  
Rosa makes a face, not necessarily one as disgusted as Gina would have expected it to be, but she can tell Rosa knows who Gina is referring to, and she can also tell that Rosa does not like it at all. And thus, she does not like Charles. All is right in the world.  
  
“Oh god—Cha— _Charles_ likes me?” she exasperates in a hushed voice, because she has the sense to keep this a secret from the drunk ears of the bar, they’re alone at this table but who knows whose prying ears are listening? Gina doesn’t want to be known as a narc, or a tattler, _even though she absolutely is_ , but she has a reputation to keep, and she wants people to trust her enough with their secrets so that she can blackmail them when needed.  
  
“I know. It’s just as disgusting as it sounds. For you, I mean, because you could definitely do better.”  
  
Rosa shudders, downing her entire bottle of beer, prompting Gina to push another bottle of beer towards her, which Rosa also proceeds to take a sip of.  
  
“I mean–“ she gulps–“it’s just. I should have seen this coming. He’s been looking at me all weird, talking to me weird, running away from me weird—just, he’s just been _weird._ Thought the dude had a concussion at first.”  
  
“That’s what a crush does to the pathetic.” Gina shrugs, but then has another thought. “I mean, it’s a little gross, but... I don’t blame the guy.”  
  
Rosa raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t fall easy.”  
  
“And I don’t. But no one can deny that you have... certain charms. Least of all Charles. He probably tried his best not to fall into your orbit, but he’s _Charles._ Weak, weak, pathetic Charles. His best is not very good depending on what he’s doing. Plus, he’s not getting any.”  
  
Rosa looks at Gina in a way that suggests she’s been fixating on something Gina said halfway through her sentence and hasn’t heard the end of it. It’s a very interesting look. A look which interests Gina.  
  
“So...” Rosa sits up straighter, which is an ironic way to describe her posture, given the situation. “How weak do you feel?”

 

* * *

  
They don’t exchange a word after that, there’s just this mutual understanding. Gina gets up in a hurry to leave, Rosa gets up just as quickly, downs her drink, and her hand settles at the back of Gina’s waist as they walk out of Shaw’s, not one person questioning their intent on the way out, because most of the squad has headed home at this point, and we live in a heteronormative world that doesn’t tend to question two women leaving a bar together. Also, random strangers don’t tend to ask other random strangers why they’re leaving a bar in pairs, so maybe it’s not exactly the heteronormativity, but still, heteronormativity is very stupid and should be ended.  
  
Not that heteronormativity is on either of their minds as Rosa flags a cab, Gina grinning as Rosa opens the door for her, crawling into the backseat, watching Rosa slam the door shut behind her with an urgency and spit out an address that Gina doesn’t find at all familiar.  
  
Oh wait, that’s probably Rosa’s address. Wow. Gina Linetti is hearing about Rosa Diaz’s address for the very first time in her life, you know, the one that she refuses to tell anyone about, and she’s going to have sex with Rosa Diaz, in Rosa Diaz’s apartment.  
  
Or, unless...  
  
Never mind. Almost as soon as Rosa blurts out her address to the cab driver who starts moving the car, Rosa’s leaning in and Gina reciprocates with the same speed, neither of them doubting for a second that this is what the other wants. They’re on the same wavelength, the same gay wavelength, and Gina tastes the tart beer on Rosa’s tongue, loving the way she slides her hand up Gina’s thigh, the way hands roam without abandon, craving more and more, only holding back in the slightest of ways because they have an intruder in their midst, and a destination to get to, a destination to be just the least bit patient for.  
  
Rosa has to tear Gina’s insistent lips away from her neck when the cab stops, chuckling for just the slightest moment as she digs out a twenty from her jacket, almost tossing it at their driver as she heaves “keep the change”, before helping Gina out of the cab in a hasty manner, dragging her to her secret abode.  
  
Gina jokingly insists on a tour of the forbidden house, and to her pleasant surprise, Rosa agrees, but goes on to say that the tour starts in her bedroom.  
  
And what a tour it ends up being indeed. Of course, Gina mostly ends up exploring Rosa’s skin, her delicious curves, explores how she can make Rosa’s back arch with just the careful twitch of a few fingers, but it is incredible.  
  
In bed is where Gina takes charge. It is unwise to assume that she wasn’t always taking charge, but they’re in Rosa’s house, so Gina supposes she deserves some credit. Within seconds, Gina has Rosa lying on her own bed, pressing her into the mattress, straddling her hips and kissing her softly as she holds Rosa down.  
  
For a moment, everything is rough except for their lips, and after that moment passes everything is rough with no exceptions again. It’s desperation, really, desperation and pent up tension that has them this way. Gina wastes no time reaching for Rosa’s pants to tug them off, but it is quickly evident that she is struggling to get them off, making Rosa laugh as she helps her along. It is the only time Gina does not enjoy the fact that Rosa’s jeans are so tight, the fact that they cling onto her hips for dear life, displaying everything Gina should so wish to see.  
  
“Show me how you scream, Diaz,” Gina rasps once Rosa is naked from the waist down, hand already trailing its way in between her legs, fingers ghosting over her clit in a way that gets Rosa shivering.  
  
Still, she finds her bearings in a sense, to retort back smartly. “You’ve heard me scream.”  
  
Okay, it’s not a very ‘smart’ response per se, but it’s the best Rosa can do for now.  
  
“Then scream a little special for me,” Gina continues without a hitch, slipping a knuckle in between her folds.  
  
_She does as requested._

 

* * *

  
Things are a haze after that, with Gina and Rosa in a frenzy as they get each other off, fingers lips and tongue covered in the taste of each other, slowing down only when they get bored of the constant fight for control, tired of silently competing to see who can make who come faster, who can drag out needier moans and whines from the other’s lips, who grips harder onto Rosa’s sheets.  
  
Then it gets gentle, tender. Shrieks become whimpers, both sounds equally beautiful in their own right. They are no longer in such a hurry to mark each other up, leave a reminder of their sex, but instead trace the marks, leaving soft kisses. During one of the breaks they take to rest up, Gina puts on Rosa’s leather jacket when it gets cold. She remembers how she relished in getting to shrug it off Rosa’s shoulders. Now Rosa will remember rolling her eyes at getting to see her favorite outerwear on Gina, see her cute attempts to act tough, toting a finger gun at the wall, taking aim. Now Rosa will remember finding a burst of energy, pushing Gina down and sliding a possessive hand up her bare chest, watching Gina shut her eyes, vulnerable to her touch, lips shaking in want.  
  
The next morning however, everything is different. From the moment they wake up, even though there’s no yelp of shock or leap of surprise, Gina feels Rosa slowly pull away from her. They go from cuddling (this was when they were asleep, when Rosa apparently didn’t know any better), Gina’s arms around Rosa’s waist, to Rosa slowly and sneakily shifting away from Gina on the bed.  
  
“Is something wrong?” Gina finally asks, because she cannot for the life of her figure out what could have gone wrong, because nothing was wrong, and everything about last night was perfect beyond her wildest dreams. Also, Gina got bored of using her phone. Yeah, it’s unbelievable, but Rosa Diaz and her wild, unpredictable nature, is actually more interesting than social media.  
  
Rosa takes in a deep breath. “This. _This_ is wrong—this was a mistake.”  
  
Gina crosses her arms. She’s not hurt, just incredibly confused. “What do you mean a mistake? What about _fantastic sex_  feels like a mistake to you?”  
  
She has a point there. Rosa rubs her fingers through her hair, those brilliant curls Gina loved tugging on. “Look, last night was good. Maybe even great.”  
  
“Maybe? Try _best sex of your life_ , sweetie.”  
  
She rolls her eyes, but in an affectionate manner. “Fine. Best sex of my life. But I wasn’t thinking straight–“  
  
“Of course you weren’t thinking _straight,_ Rosa. There’s nothing straight about what we did last night.”  
  
A conflicted look sits on Rosa’s face for a brief moment, because she almost wants to just laugh at the witty words Gina effortlessly spews. “My point is: it can’t happen again.”  
  
“And why not? You afraid we can’t top last night? Because I assure you, I have _more_ than a few tricks up–“  
  
“I’m not worried about that, I’m worried–“ she sighs, deeply–“we, we’re _friends,_ Gina.”  
  
“Please save us some time and avoid being that _‘we’re friends, we shouldn’t do this, this is wrong’_ cliched bull crap.”  
  
“We’re friends, we shouldn’t do this, _this is wrong_ ,” Rosa says word for word just to spite Gina. “But seriously, we can’t do this again. I mean, where do you see this going? It’s not like we’re in love. What do you want us to be?” she snorts. “Friends with benefits?”  
  
“Please, Justin Timberlake and Mika Kunis have nothing on us.”  
  
“It’s not our _chemistry_ that I’m worried about–“ Rosa asserts in that half-hearted way again, the one that suggests she’s struggling between getting Gina to see her view and buckling under the way this girl’s mind works to guffaw–“I’m worried–“  
  
“That what? That we’ll mess it all up?”  
  
“Exactly. I can’t lose what we have, for, for a fling. Or whatever we could have been.”  
  
For a second, Gina’s heart tightens. It’s the only time in this whole conversation that she feels even the tiniest bit of hurt, actually. But what they could be quickly flashes before her eyes, and just as fast as these thoughts appear, Gina forces them into a box that she keeps locked up in the back of her mind.  
  
“Yeah,” she agrees, just for the sake of it. “If we dated and broke up, who would get Babylon?”  
  
This time, Rosa breaks, unable to help herself. She laughs, long, hearty, and beautiful. Gina finds she loves this, she loves making Rosa laugh. The fact that it seems to happen pretty much effortlessly is a plus too.  
  
“Yeah, you’re right.”  
  
“How would we split custody of the best damn bathroom in New York City?”  
  
“We wouldn’t be able to, that’s the thing.” She inches in closer to Gina again. “But you see what I mean, right? I don’t have the best dating track record. And no offense, but neither do you.”  
  
Gina clutches her chest dramatically. “Ouch! Next time, say _full offense_ , because that’s how much I’m taking.”  
  
Rosa laughs again, and Gina’s not entirely sure but she’s certain she heard a giggle somewhere in there. “See? I can’t risk this. I can’t risk _you.”_  
  
This gets to Gina in the strangest way. Her heart pumps wildly, Rosa’s fingers inches away from her hand, and something in her screams, wanting to hold it. But she restrains herself. “I’m that important to you, huh?”  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She looks away. “But... yeah. I guess.”  
  
Gina’s hand reaches for Rosa’s face, pulling it to face her. “Look, you’re right. We’re friends, and I get what you mean about not messing stuff up. I mean, I wouldn’t worry about it, but if it makes you feel better, we won’t do this again.”  
  
“Thank you. Did you really have to grab my face to say that?”  
  
“That being said—I don’t see what’s so bad about us getting it on... just one more time. One last hit for the road. Or maybe one more _day_ of hits for the road,” Gina winks.  
  
Rosa looks down now, blushing. Gina does have a point. One more day of sex wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? No one’s going to catch feelings because of events that transpired over a single day, especially if those events are just one event really, one event that’s going to happen over and over again.  
  
“I guess that could work,” Rosa admits, which is her way of saying _‘yes I really want that that would be great’._ “Since I’m not supposed to be working today.”  
  
“Cool. I’m technically supposed to come in today, but I don’t tend to go to work if you’re not there.”  
  
Rosa bites her lip. “So... you wanna do it now, or?”  
  
“Of course I want it to start now, we have a whole day ahead of us,” she grins, sitting up. “But we already spent all night on the bed.” She gets up, heading toward the shower. “Let’s switch it up, shall we?”

 

* * *

  
“Can’t believe Rosa Diaz has a man’s XXL shirt in her wardrobe,” Gina comments curiously as she rummages through Rosa’s closet (which she is doing because Rosa isn’t stopping her for some reason), donning one of Rosa’s bathrobes, because apparently Rosa has bathrobes. _Multiple,_ bathrobes actually. Every second spent at this apartment has been an investigative mystery. Mostly of Rosa and how she is in bed, but it has still been a wild time.  
  
“It’s a sleep shirt,” Rosa emphasizes, tying up her own matching baby pink bathrobe. “That I don’t _use,_ ” she further emphasizes. “Neighbor gave it to me.”  
  
“And you didn’t punch them in the face? It’s like you’re a whole different person at home. Who’s this softie and when am I going to meet her?”  
  
“It was my neighbor who also happens to be my landlord. Didn’t want to risk anything—this place is rent controlled.”  
  
“Ah,” Gina remarks as she loses interest in the closet for the moment to follow her out of the room, because Rosa had suggested making tea and watching a few movies earlier in the shower.  
  
What happened in the shower? Well, Gina’s not one to spray and tell, but she had a lot of fun finding out why Rosa smells the way she does (it’s a mix of rose, mint, and chamomile). Gina finds that she likes Rosa’s bath gel almost as much as she likes Rosa’s body—she loves slathering the soap on her  own skin almost as much as she likes pumping her fingers in and out of Rosa. She loves the hot water in Rosa’s shower drenching the both of them almost as much as she likes grabbing the shower head, turning it on the strongest setting, and aiming it in between Rosa’s legs to watch her gasp, squirm, her voice screeching at the flick of her wrist.  
  
So yeah, it was a good shower, and they had fun making each other come in between the giggles, snide burns, and immense water wastage.    
  
Gina looks through Rosa’s movie collection while the latter moves about in the kitchen, opening a cabinet here, slamming a drawer shut there.  
  
“You have a lot of Nancy Meyers movies. And a bunch of old stuff.” She stumbles upon something that makes her laugh. “Is this Robocop?”  
  
“Shut up, I’ve been to your place. You have movies that are way dumber.”  
  
“Hey!” Gina turns around to give Rosa a hurt look to guilt her on purpose. “I didn’t say your movies are dumb. I can appreciate Meyers. I love Something Has To Give.”  
  
“Something’s _Gotta_ Give,” Rosa corrects as if on instinct, reflexively telling Gina off for getting that movie wrong. “You’re holding the DVD case. How did you mess that up?”  
  
“I wanted to see how big of a Nancy Nut you are,” she grins, randomly popping one of the movies in before she settles on Rosa’s couch (she finds she likes the way the couch envelops her too; she already can’t wait to desecrate this surface of Rosa’s apartment with some mid-movie sex).  
  
Rosa can only sigh as she walks over to the living room with their tea, complete with a fancy tray, an adorably patterned tea pot with matching tea cups to boot. There are even saucers for the cups. Gina is impressed.  
  
“Wow. You really take your herbal tea seriously, huh?” She says, gesturing to the set up Rosa has going on.  
  
“This is jasmine green tea. And what kind of idiot doesn’t have a tray for their tea pot?”  
  
“Still, you’re treating me a little too nice,” Gina crosses her legs, showing a nice bit of her thigh that nearly has Rosa distracted. “Sure this isn’t becoming a date?”  
  
Rosa is stunned for a hot second, so much so that she doesn’t even roll her eyes. “Just... shut up and drink your tea.”  
  
“Yes ma’am,” Gina drawls with a playful wink, and Rosa has to force herself to look away for five full minutes.

 

* * *

  
Monday morning comes, and Charles Boyle walks up to Gina’s desk while she’s filling out a report (yes, sometimes she has to do her job, which is disgusting, frankly).  
  
“Hey Gina, you know any scalpers? I wanna ask Rosa to go to the Rihanna concert with me, but it’s sold out.”  
  
Oh god. She did not want this. She had not coolly figured out that Charles liked Rosa only for her to bang Rosa, and then for Charles to start treating Gina as his love confidant for Rosa. It was her fault for figuring it out really, because now Charles thinks she’s the only one who knows _(not true, and if Charles knew the truth Gina figures he’d probably go into shock and die),_ which means that she’s the only outlet he has to voice all his Rosa related thoughts.  
  
And as someone who has recently had copious amounts of sex (that will apparently never happen again) with the girl of his dreams, Gina can’t help but feel a little icky about the whole thing. A little guilty. She has a conscience okay, she’s not a monster.  
  
So Gina tries to help the guy out a little bit, while making it clear to him that Rosa still does not like him at all. Zero feelings, none whatsoever. She’s very confident about it, because if Rosa doesn’t want to date her (albeit for whatever sappy friendship love reasons she has), why in the hell would she want to date Charles? Who is, _no offense to the man once again_ , a lesser being than Gina in every regard?  
  
Gina doesn’t hide Charles’ intentions from Rosa; she doesn’t tell Rosa immediately after Charles expresses his intentions though, because their new captain calls her into his office, and also she doesn’t really care.  
  
“Hey just a heads up, Charles was thinking of asking you out for a movie,” she warns as she catches Rosa taking a coffee break from work hell.  
  
“I know,” Rosa nods as she sips her drink. “He asked me when we were leaving the crime scene earlier. I said yes.”  
  
Gina nearly chokes on the bread she’s eating, the bread she stole from—was it Hitchcock? Eh, she doesn’t really care. “What? Are you–“  
  
“Relax,” Rosa assures as she takes a swig. “I don’t wanna hurt the guy. Friends can watch movies together,” she says, almost pointedly, as if to remind Gina that the time they spent together the other day was not a date, and apart from all the doing it they did, a _platonic_ activity. “I made sure not to sound too excited.”  
  
Gina shrugs. “Well, suit yourself. I’m just saying, not a good idea to lead him on.”  
  
“I’m not,” Rosa huffs. “I’ll let him down easy at the movies.”

 

* * *

  
Gina almost rolls her eyes at the sweet, charming demeanor Rosa adopts when she walks over to Boyle’s desk, the way she talks to him, careful and gentle, wearing that stupid revealing top she so badly wants to rip off Rosa’s back. She hates how she made the decision to take off her leather jacket, and Gina can’t help but feel like it’s to spite her, _her specifically_ , for some reason.  
  
But then it all comes crashing and burning down fast when Charles offends Rosa of his own accord (Gina swears he is his own recipe for disaster, which makes sense because Charles takes his _cooking_ very seriously), getting her to flare up and call off the entire movie date as she storms off.  
  
Gina supposes blowing raspberries at Charles while pointing her thumb down might have been a bit of an overkill, but she was way too ecstatic to care about his feelings at that point. And apparently, neither did Rosa.  
  
“You call that letting him down easy, huh?” Gina teases Rosa at the bar, hours after the squad gets back from that bust they made.  
  
Rosa rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’m sure he’ll get over it. I already paid him back for the tickets.”  
  
“Oof,” Gina frowns as she settles in, way too close to Rosa again. “Wish you hadn’t done that.”  
  
“Why not? I mean, what he did sucked, but I felt bad for the guy. Movie tickets are expensive.”  
  
“I know, I only wish you hadn’t done that because I’m about to ask you to see a movie with me that you technically paid for.”  
  
Rosa looks confused yet also intrigued as Gina says this, before proceeding to whip out all of the movie tickets Charles had bought.  
  
“He gave you the tickets?”  
  
Gina nods. “Yeah, not like he’s going to find someone else he wants to take to the movies,” she shrugs. “I already sold most of them, but I left two tickets for us. Because unlike Charles, I know what movie you want to watch.”  
  
Rosa crosses her arms. “How can you be so sure?”  
  
Gina pushes all the tickets towards her. “Pick the movie you wanna see, and I’ll tell you if it’s the one I kept for you and me.”  
  
Rosa rummages through all the tickets, a concentrated furrow of her eyebrows firmly in place, until she finds what she’s looking for and smiles a brilliant grin.  
  
She holds the ticket in front of Gina. “This. This is the movie I’d pick.”  
  
“Cool. I’ll sell the rest then.” Gina grabs the tickets and shoves them back in her purse, leaving a shellshocked Rosa staring in disbelief.  
  
“What? I thought you already sold most of the tickets.”  
  
“Well, I lied. I guess the real difference between me and Charles is: even when I don’t know what exactly it is you want, I know how to manipulate you well enough to tell me what it is.”  
  
Rosa sighs. “Fine. Well played.” She shoots Gina one last look. “This movie thing isn’t a date, by the way. Just wanna make things clear. We’re doing it as friends.”  
  
“ _Doing It As Friends_. Sounds like a great alternative title to _No Strings Attached,”_ Gina pipes up, finishing her drink with a certain grace and finesse that Rosa finds alluring. “Also, you have nothing to worry about, because I _know_ we’re going to the movies as friends. Like I said— _Gina don’t fall easy.”_


	2. not that innocent

“Is anyone here named Mark?” 

Rosa rolls her eyes along with the thump sound of Gina slamming her empty drink back on the bar, eyes never leaving the drunk woman as she begins a sloppy and slightly angry job of putting on her coat.

Several men raise their hands, and Rosa has this strange urge to punch each and every single one of them, _no_ , walk up to them and demand for their identification, _no_ , stab them with her sword once each, wait, she only brought her pocket knife today–

“You’re good.”

Rosa bites on her lip as she continues to watch Gina stagger over to the best looking ‘Mark’ in the room. She’s the last person in the squad to go home today, aside from the woman dressed in hot pink leopard print velvet with mesh sleeves (how is Rosa attracted to her again? never mind, she is), and she’s stalled long enough. She has to get up for work early tomorrow too, while Gina’s not even required to come in, so while it makes sense for Gina to hook up with some random stranger named Mark, it makes little to no sense for Rosa to stay.

It doesn’t mean Rosa has to like it, though, nor does she want to like it. She has to admit it’s not a nice feeling, watching Gina move on this fast.

Okay, ‘move on’ is a strong term. It implies that Gina and Rosa were in some sort of romantic relationship and just broke up, which is not true. Far from it, really, they hooked up for two days. And when you think about it, it’s more of one-night-and-then-the-proceeding-day than it is two days. So yeah, Gina and Rosa had a very, very, very short fling before they agreed that doing anything would jeopardize their friendship. Gina said something about how she doesn’t fall easy in a flirtatious manner and that was it.

Yeah, apparently that _was_ it. Rosa’s actually kind of surprised that Gina hasn’t tried to start anything, in fact, if Rosa didn’t know better, she would have assumed that they never hooked up.

Tearing her eyes away, Rosa pettily ensures that she doesn’t see even a second of Gina’s lips meeting that of another person’s, let alone that of a disgusting so called ‘Mark’, and heads out the bar. Sure, Rosa was the one who suggested ending things before they even started, or became something real, something dangerous, but she has to admit that it hurts, it hurts to see that what they shared really meant next to nothing for Gina.

At the very least, Rosa gets to celebrate the fact that she wakes up in time for work the next morning.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh, really Gina? A psychic?”

About a week later, Rosa finds out that maybe Gina was hooking up with some random dude presumably named ‘Mark’ not because people and the sex she has with them mean nothing to her, but because she sincerely believes and works toward achieving the words of someone who claims they can predict the future.

Rosa isn’t sure which is worse.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me for help to get Charles to stop hitting you with those goo goo eyes. No questioning my methods, sweetie.”

Rosa sighs, popping the cap off a new bottle of beer. “I’m not questioning, just—how the hell would your psychic stop Charles from having feelings for me?”

“By telling him that it’s not meant to be. I don’t even have to tell her to say that, any idiot can figure it out.”

“Again, how would that help? What if Charles doesn’t believe in psychics?”

Gina chuckles, crossing her legs and taking a careful sip of her drink. Rosa pretends she isn’t distracted by this display. “Rosa, you can get Charles to believe anything if you try hard enough. And trust me, I won’t even have to try.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” But Rosa has a feeling Gina probably is. Strangely, and in a surprising way, Rosa finds that Gina is often right about more things than she would expect.

 

* * *

 

“The woman you love, the one you work with, the scary one with the black hair...”

Gina isn’t sure she should be enjoying this moment as much as she currently is. After all, she isn’t the one burdened by the romantic affections of Charles Boyle—okay, maybe she sort of is burdened, because watching Charles suffer from a one-sided love is exhausting to witness—but she isn’t on the receiving end of it. Rosa is.

So maybe Gina’s just excited on Rosa’s behalf, and she’s also excited because Charles giving up on his pointless and admittedly boring crusade will be good for the precinct. Gina’s done with picking up his slack, especially since she doesn’t make a detective’s salary.

“Rosa? Yes?”

“She doesn’t love you back. She will _never_ love you back.”

Is it wrong that Gina takes as much pleasure in seeing Charles’ face fall as it does?

“Say ‘thank you’ Charles! She just told you your future.”

Charles looks like his entire world has just been thrown into a whirlwind of agony, which Gina can’t be happier about (shut up, he’ll get over it, it’s better for them all in the long run), because this is a clear indication that her plan is succeeding, and she can’t wait to make Rosa indebted to her for all this.

She even relishes in how Charles remains glued to his chair for the day after Carlene tells him that he’ll get seriously hurt if he gets up from his chair; she didn’t even think that Carlene would tell him something like that, but she supposes that’s how talented a psychic she is.

So yeah, everything is going according to plan, and Gina is more than sure that Charles is on his way to giving up his ridiculous yet understandable crush on Rosa Diaz.

Until, that is, Rosa herself goes and screws everything up.

 

* * *

 

“Carlene was wrong, Gina. Rosa said it herself—I’m in charge of my own destiny. That means she wants me to make a move.”

Rosa Diaz is an idiot. There Gina was, slaving away to help her out, help set Rosa free from the gushy, gross feelings Charles has for her, and yet she just had to, what? Give him life advice? To a sad, sad man such as Charles Boyle, that’s basically an invitation to bone.

But Gina supposes she should have seen this coming. When she was watching the detectives put some cocaine away (thereby wasting it, wasting any opportunity they had to monetize its value) yesterday, she witnessed Rosa asking Charles what he was doing later that night. Since when did Rosa care about whatever cheese wheel Boyle was carving at home, or whatever food-related experiment he was bound to see disastrous outcomes from?

Is Rosa Diaz starting to have feelings for Charles? Is that why she didn’t want to start anything with Gina? Ugh, no, gross—that can’t be right. So what is it? Does Rosa feel sorry for Charles? What’s her plan here?

“Mm, but Carlene was also right. You did get hurt ‘cause Rosa punched you.” In the meantime, while Rosa has decided she wants to have a weird, hard life, Gina still has to make sure Charles gives up on Rosa. Because... that’s how good a friend Gina is. Yup. She’s just that devoted to seeing a plan through until she succeeds. And maybe Rosa can’t see logic right now, but she’s the one who asked for Gina’s help in the first place. “And the fact that Rosa punched you means she does not like you.”

“No, no, she punched me to prove Carlene wrong.”

“Move!” As if to prove her point, Rosa aggressively shoves past Charles to get into the briefing room. A chill runs down Gina’s spine in the best way. It’s not directed at her, but still, she loves it.

“Oh wait, I take it back. She definitely is into you. So much chemistry.”

“I know, it’s _crazy_.”

Obviously, Charles doesn’t notice the sarcasm that Gina’s words are drowning in, and she takes no issue in that happening, because she expected him to remain undeterred and enamored anyway.

The issue that she currently has is in the very gorgeous shape of Rosa Diaz.

And Gina feels like they’re due for a talk.

 

* * *

 

**_Babylon. Five minutes._ **

 

Rosa sighs and stops doing the important paperwork she has to put on the Civilian Administrator’s desk in about half an hour to go to a secret bathroom that no one aside from herself and one other person knows about.

To be fair though, that’s because the very Civilian Administrator— _Gina Linetti_ —that Rosa speaks of is the one who’s currently demanding that she see her in said secret bathroom.

When Rosa slides open the heavy door of Babylon, she comes face to face with the back of a long, black chair. Which swivels around dramatically to reveal Gina sat, poised and with her legs crossed, to regard Rosa dramatically.

Typical.

Okay, maybe it’s not _that_ typical. It’s not everyday that Gina brings a big chair with wheels to their shared bathroom. It’s not everyday that Gina swivels around in it to say–

“Well hello, Mrs Charles Boyle.”

They both openly grimace without a pause after Gina says this, because the very notion of being married to Charles (and being referred to in such a degrading way at that) feels very gross to the both of them. Not because Charles doesn’t deserve to be married—he does, he’s a good dude—he’s just not what either of them want, apparently. Maybe to some lucky lady with a name like Vivian, or, or Genevieve—Charles would be the perfect man.

But he’s just not for Gina or Rosa.

“God, okay, that felt gross to say.” Gina shudders one last time, for effect.

“Then why did you say it?” Rosa spits, more out of shock than anger. “And where did you get that chair?”

“Let’s just say that a certain sergeant on the second floor who’s out for a crazy long lunch right now is missing his very comfortable chair that I may or may not feel like swapping with mine–“

“You stole someone’s chair?!”

“I’ll return it before he gets back,” she assures, before pausing with a tilt of her head. “Maybe, we’ll see where this goes.” She turns back to look at Rosa. “Anyway, forget about that. We’re here to discuss why you’re screwing everything up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How am I supposed to help you get rid of Charles’ feelings if you keep _flirting_ with him at every turn?”

She crosses her arms defensively. “When was I flirting with him? I’ve never flirted with Charles. Trust me, if I were flirting with Charles, he’d know.”

Gina rolls her eyes. “No Rosa, he doesn’t. And I don’t blame the guy. You’re all ‘oh Charles, what are you doing tonight?’ and ‘oh Charles, you make your own destiny’ which is confusing the heck out of him. No, wait, it’s not confusing him, it’s making him more certain that you somehow like him back and want him to make a move!”

“He got all that from me telling him not to stay in a chair all day?”

Gina leans back in her chair. If this continues, she might be stuck in a chair all day too. “He got that from your smile. Smiling to a Boyle is pretty much second base. And also the chair thing. Got him all sexually charged.”

Rosa grips onto her arms and shivers with a very obvious frown. “How is a chair with wheels sexy?”

Gina shrugs. “It depends on the person. I know you could make a chair sexy.”

The look Gina has in her eyes gets Rosa feeling warm, real warm, and not in a good way—or well, at least not in a way that’s safe.

“No one...” she bites her lip. “No one can make a chair sexy.”

As if on cue, Gina reaches forth and grabs Rosa by the wrist, pulling herself forward with a speed that has the chair’s edge bumping into her legs. Suddenly, Gina’s too close for comfort, her face right in front of Rosa’s crotch, and this proximity gets her feeling hot, suddenly aware of how close the walls are (her back is against one of them), aware of every single breath she takes.

Gina’s fingers trace their way up her thighs, black skinny jeans doing nothing to reduce the sensations on her skin, the ache in between her legs growing, growling for attention. Her fingers stop at Rosa’s hips, dancing around like they own the place, like they own Rosa. Every time they get close to the button that Rosa wants her to undo, close to the zipper she wants yanked down, her breath hitches, her heart skips a beat.

“You... sure about that?”

There’s a depth to Gina’s words. The playfulness her voice tends to exude, that coy layer she has to her is there, but something else is there too. Something Rosa can only compare to the Gina she spent the night (and proceeding day) with. Something that has her throbbing with need, because _damn it,_ she wants Gina’s fingers on her so bad, she wants her mouth on her so bad, and she doesn’t care about the consequences, or the fact that they shouldn’t be doing any of this right now, right here.

But it feels like they’ve dropped into a different world, a different dimension, one that’s just the two of them, pitting themselves against each other, a series of challenges, pushing the other to see how far they can go.

In this world, this secret paradise, Rosa feels like she can let Gina fuck her into tomorrow and tomorrow won’t care.

So, she challenges her.

“Yeah,” she licks her lips, and it’s only half on purpose. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Oh, Rosa...” Gina’s eyes don’t leave her as she expertly unbuttons her jeans with one hand, which somehow makes it hotter. “When will you admit that I’m always right?”

“Never–“ she inhales sharply, holding the breath as Gina tugs her jeans to her knees in a single pull–“be, because it’s not tr—ah!”

She yelps in a pitch higher than she’s used to when Gina’s lips attach to her inner thigh, too close to her clit for comfort. She sucks hard at Rosa’s taut skin, gripping onto her sides for stability, fingers sneakily going under her black lace, doing nothing aside from keeping Rosa on edge, reminding her who’s in charge here.

Rosa’s toes curl as Gina’s attack on her thigh gets painful in the best way—she clearly intends on leaving a mark, and the thought of that, combined with the actual touch she currently receives, turns her on to no end. She freezes completely, out of fear that moving or jerking in any way will throw Gina off her rhythm, and cause the illusion of this perfect moment to shatter and then waste away. The only thing that moves is her mind, and her mind wonders if Gina can smell how much more Rosa wants from her.

Satisfied, Gina’s lips detach from where she’s marked her territory, her tongue gliding over the bruise for good measure, soothing it before she starts kissing her way along the line of her outer labia, testing the limits of Rosa’s sanity. At this point, Rosa is more than aware of how wet she is, how heightened her sensitivities are, how with each careful kiss Gina plants a new scream in Rosa’s head.

At long last, when Gina purposely hovers her lips over Rosa’s wet folds, tragically still clothed by her underwear, teasing her, blowing air over where she desperately needs to be touched, yet refusing to give her the contact she deserves, she decides enough is enough.

She grunts, and the sound is anger, and plea, and the most ungodly sounding thing that one would find impossible to recreate with the written word. Her hand reaches forth, almost instinctively grabbing at Gina’s hair, a sudden urge to push her against where Rosa so badly wants her lips to latch onto, and she only manages to avoid doing this at the last second, her hand brushing against Gina’s perfect curls.

She looks up, raising an eyebrow almost smugly at Rosa. “Yes?” she goes, like Rosa just put forth a professional inquiry, like she just walked past Gina to ask a question and she happened to not catch her entire sentence.

Rosa swallows hard, refusing to beg. “You know what I want.”

She leans back in her chair, and the further away she gets from Rosa, the more she misses her. It’s like an addiction, and Gina is her poison, an approaching death that sustains her till her last breath.

“I do know. But what you want is too sexy, and didn’t you just say nothing sexy can happen in chairs with wheels?”

Rosa nearly rolls her eyes, because of course Gina is being this petty. It’s the way she is, it’s one of the things that draws Rosa to her, and it’s the very trigger that sets off something deep and raw inside of her. She grips on tight to the arm rests of Gina’s stolen chair, shoves her against the sink without letting go, ignores how she’s a soaking wet mess with her pants around her knees, and puts her face right in front of Gina’s, like she would to intimidate someone, anyone.

“You’re right. Things can get sexy in chairs. So prove that you can.”

Gina stares straight into Rosa’s eyes for a good moment, before smiling a deadly smile, standing up straight and pushing Rosa all the way back against the wall on the other side of the small confined space, pining her against the flat surface with her body.

“You’re not in a chair anymore,” Rosa remarks breathily, even though she couldn’t care less.

“Good observation, detective,” Gina quips, before shoving her hand in Rosa’s lacy boy shorts, rubbing hard against her clit, drowning her in the pleasure she so craves, overwhelming her with it in waves of unending mercy.

“Oh, fuck,” Rosa feels the urge, the need to grab onto something, the need to break something as Gina draws circles on the apex of her thighs, no, wait, she’s not _drawing_ circles—at the rate she’s going—Rosa would sooner compare her speed and lack of precision to that of _scribbling_. Gina knows she’s going at it without thought or consideration, without trying at all to hit any of Rosa’s spots, but touches her with this lack of abandon anyway, because she knows it’s still doing wonders for Rosa. She’s making Rosa come apart without actually doing exactly what she needs to do to make Rosa _come_ apart. It’s her exact intention and she’s nailing it; she wants Rosa to stay hot and heavy yet she refuses to drive her over the edge, prolonging her suffering.

Rosa can’t help but love it just a little. After all, she does like a challenge.

Gina’s movements slow down because after all going too fast for too long will result in everything ending just as quickly. She lessens her speed to that of a slow and careful tease, touching Rosa right where she likes it best, but keeps it agonizing, even intermittent, not allowing any anticipation of her movements. Gina even starts dragging her finger up and down Rosa’s slit in a way that has her whimpering, using her free hand to pin Rosa’s wrist to the wall, watching her crumble in her arms, or to be more accurate, a single finger.

“Gina, please...”

The sensations from all this spread throughout Rosa’s body like a mind-numbing plague. And if Gina’s touch were a fatal disease, Rosa would go so far as to say she craves death.

It’s incredible really, how much and how quickly Gina seems to have learnt and somehow memorized Rosa’s body in the short time they spent together. Perhaps, if sex _(the physical act, not the weird ‘don’t have sex’ spiel they feed you)_ were a subject taught at school _(let’s say college, anything beneath that would be very questionable and immoral to think of),_ Rosa thinks that Gina would’ve gotten an A.

Or whatever the highest score is that one person could possibly get.

“Please what, Rosa?” Gina lets a hint of a sly grin show on her lips. “I’m not sure I know what you want.”

So Rosa shows her.

She grabs Gina tightly by the waist, pulling her in and making their bodies collide. Warmth envelops them both at the proximity, and Rosa closes the gap even further by pressing her lips against Gina’s. She tastes of something fruity and intoxicating that is most definitely a combination of her lip balm and another quality that is inherent to Gina.

Rosa likes feeling Gina’s body against her, all pressed up like this. It reminds her of the intimacy they shared, the passions they indulged in, the sincerity in every touch, kiss. Gina stops getting Rosa off and holds her just as clingy, giving her all into the kiss she’s been offered. Obviously, Rosa doesn’t mind for now. The kiss is a new type of drug, not as intense but just as electrifying. A slow burn rather than a fast kill, one that still spreads throughout, giving her goosebumps in the best way.

Very soon, Rosa’s hands start to get curious, taking their time to explore Gina, but mostly taking interest in peeling off her clothes. She’s refused to admit this for most of the day, but Rosa’s wanted to pull Gina’s pretty outfit off her body for the longest time. Her hot pink cardigan... her black pencil skirt... it perfectly balances Gina’s style with some playful level of professionalism.

She wants it all gone. She wants to touch Gina. She wants to feel her again, touch her again, make her scream and whine and cry out for Rosa’s touch. Likewise, Rosa wants Gina to do the same and more to her. She wants to come on Gina’s fingers, her mouth, her tongue, she wants to spew expletives and mix them with every intonation of Gina Linetti’s name. She wants to worship her body, she wants to have desperate, ground-breaking sex, on any and _if time permits_ every, surface of this secret bathroom they share.

Gina moans softly against Rosa’s lips and she decides now, now is the time, and she begins tugging at the sleeves of Gina’s jacket, only to feel her pull away.

She smiles triumphantly now, as if it had been her plan all along to make Rosa this eager for her body, this desperate for the sex she previously recommended they refrain from.

“Time to get back to work, Diaz.”

Diaz—or well, Rosa—as she has been named, is in a daze. She blinks once, then twice, only to realize that Gina isn’t joking. She’s been played.

“Uh... what?” Her voice is hoarse. Almost choked up, really, and she never meant for it to be. Not over sex. Especially not over sex with her coworker.

“We’re not supposed to do this, remember? Our friendship, which is so very fragile and important, depends on this.”

Rosa huffs, fully rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. No. Gina is not sassing her right now. Not after fingering her for as long as she did. Not after touching her for as long as she did. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not. What friends have sex in a bathroom?”

“Haven’t we done that before?”

“I mean a public bathroom. Even one that only the two of us know about.”

Rosa bites her lip. “Okay. So in what place would it be okay for friends to have sex?”

Gina’s lips spread wide, revealing her pretty smile. “I’m glad you asked sweetie. I’ll see you back at my place tonight.”

And with that, Gina cleverly and composedly walks out of Babylon, leaving a very much unkempt Rosa with the job of pulling her pants back up and fixing her clothes to ensure she looks exactly the same as she did when she first left her desk.

It takes a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE Y'ALL LIKED THIS FHJDSKDJFHJDKS


End file.
